Wedding Bell Black n' Blues
by Happys Hitwoman
Summary: Two dateless ol' ladies plus the wrong impression equals mayhem of a different sort. Fun & fluff.- part of Hap/Amanda, Tig/Daisy AU-verse
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a little fluff, fun and…..fighting. This will only be a two, possibly three shot if I can't complete it all within the next chapter. Just a need for an infusion of humor and...chaos!**

**Takes place 3 months after Bending The Rules. Have fun!**

**~A~**

**December-ish, 2013**

"What'cha doin', A?"

Looking up from the pile of mail, Amanda's husband directed the question at her, but he only had eyes for the chubby, fed and satisfied five month old sitting in his seat. Hands reached in to pick up his son to hold against his chest – the baby's all-white one piece footie pajamas against his father's white wife beater under an open TM shirt. He had gotten good at this – juggling a baby in one arm while the other pulled a cup out and poured coffee into it – and loved watching him maneuver the two before eyeing the envelopes.

"Haven't opened the mail in two days," she finally said, sifting through obvious bills, Christmas cards, credit card and low mortgage rate offers, postcard from the Ford dealership to bring her Edge in for maintenance – stuff like that. Except for one very pretty envelope. Pale blue. Edged in a white design which looked like a doilie. Calligraphy in gold ink addressed to the both of them – _'Mr. & Mrs' –_and, wondering where the sudden, pleasant fragrance was which had nothing to do with the Lever 2000 Hap just showered with, she brought the envelope up to her nose. It was scented. Yes….._scented._ The return address gave her a bit of a hint and she couldn't help but chuckle as she opened it. "If this is what I think it is…"

"What?" Hap asked, balancing his son with one hand while holding him over his head.

Amanda caught the act out of the corner of her eye. "Don't do that," she sternly told him.

"I ain't gonna drop 'im," he replied, ignoring her and hoisting Will up and down as if he were doing bench presses.

"It's not him I'm worried about, but the bottle of milk he may barf in your face."

With a disgusted look, Hap brought Will down and back in the crook of his arm. "Don't yak on me, kiddo," he told his son before raising the coffee cup to his lips while watching his wife open the mysterious, blue envelope. "So….what is it?"

A hand went to Amanda's mouth to suppress another chuckle as she read the matching blue card she slid out. "We've been invited to a wedding. But something tells me I'll be going alone."

Eyes narrowed at her across the table. "Alone to _whose_ weddin'?"

"Rafe and Carlos'," she answered with a smirk.

Hap opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when it finally sunk in then promptly rolled his eyes. "Jesus. Really?"

"Yep. A Christmas wedding, how cute," she smirked, looking at the date. "Wow…..it's next Sunday afternoon. And at the Montclair Bistro in Oakland. Wonder why so quick?"

"Maybe one of 'em's knocked up."

"Very funny."

"You're also very right – I ain't goin', A. And you ain't goin' alone – especially to Oakland."

Before she could reply her phone _'dinged'_with a text. It was Daisy. **'OMG, did you get your mail?'**

"I don't think I'll be going alone," she told her husband as she texted back '**Yup!****'.** "That's Daisy. Looks like she got an invitation too. And I doubt Tig'll be going either."

"If he lets her go."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"The same reason I may not let you go."

She sat back hard in the chair and threw him a look. "_May_ not let me?" she repeated. "_Really_? You _kidding_ me?"

Rocking Will in his arm, Hap stared at the baby who only had eyes for his father at the moment as he answered his wife. "Do I sound like I'm kidding, A?"

Getting up from the table, Amanda went for the coffee. "I don't care if you have to send a brigade to escort us," she calmly said, turning to him. "Rafe is my business associate and she's his best friend. He came to Will's baptism _and_ pretended to be straight for Daisy. I cannot _not_ go. You _need_ to understand that." Amanda wasn't stupid. She knew the right words to say when she had to make a point and get her way and replacing the word 'have' with the word 'need' was a world of difference to a man like him.

Hap just sat there, holding his son and looking at her, a stare-down that lasted a few moments until she walked out. "Think about it," she said. "I have to get dressed."

No yelling. No cursing. No theatrical pleading. Just stated her case which pointed in her favor and walked away for him to make the call. And the thing about it was that she knew exactly what she was doing – getting her way without making it seem so because she knew how to work him.

His smart little blue-eyed bitch of a wife. He wanted to shake her and fuck her at the same time.

Blowing out a deep breath, he looked at his Son. "What am I gonna do with that mama of yours, kiddo?"

The baby answered by slowly closing his eyes, a faint smile on his lips as if he understood. Curled up on the floor, Tank let out a woof.

"Who asked you?"

**~A~**

"Where?"

"Next Sunday in Oakland."

"No."

"No?"

Daisy watched Tig simultaneously finish a cigarette and coffee while giving her _a 'did you hear me the first time?' l_ook. "I'm not asking you to go with me," she told him.

"Good – that makes two of us not goin'. Later – gotta get to the garage."

Three months since he stopped treating her like a middle-of-the-night booty call with ink running up inside her lower left leg which more than acknowledged her in public. She was now his _ol' lady_ and with that came rules tighter than the ones he laid down when they were just fucking around. Running things by him for_this_, asking permission for _that_ – she was slowly learning, with some clever instruction from Amanda, how to _work_ him. Tig wasn't Hap, but from what Amanda shared about her husband Hap wasn't a saint to deal with either – no matter how much he loved her. These were men cut from a different cloth, ones who didn't give a rat's ass about what society touted regarding relationships or equal rights or even women's lib. She was a Connecticut-born and bred girl with a fashion model's body, Style Magazine's wardrobe and a personality and demeanor which blended both. Instead of winding up with someone named Biff or Trent, living in white picket fence heaven complete with country club membership, Hampton weekends in the summer and Vermont ski trips in the winter she was living in complete and utter tattooed sin with an outlaw biker who had a prison record longer than some of the driveways in Greenwich.

But no one twisted her arm to make that choice. Pouting, storming off and withholding sex may work for some women trying to manipulate their men, but not with this man. No way. No fucking way.

So she worked him the way Amanda taught her – by not making him think he's giving in and letting him know he's in charge of the relationship. Without a word, she took her coffee and the invitation to the couch where Sasha was already comfortably spread out. She sat down just as the dog inched forward to put her face on Daisy's lap. _My two little bitches_, Tig would often say.

And she knew he had his soft spot for both of them.

As she heard the back door open, she called out. "Can you at least give me a reason?"

Silence, then the door closed as he walked back in and into the living room. "Because I said so."

She casually rubbed the dog's head. "Tig?"

"What?"

"Don't you think I deserve a more concrete reason?" She didn't demand it, but rather fashioned it to put the ball in his court. To let him stay in control. Damn, she had to thank Amanda for her little tips and tricks. She only hoped it worked.

He rolled his eyes – a trait she found amusing rather than threatening. "Do we have to talk about this now? Gotta get to work."

"Since when are you so concerned about being on time?" She threw that back at him as Tig was out the door the last possible moment – especially when he was working in the garage.

"You ain't goin' into Oakland alone," he told her.

"I won't be alone," she said. "Amanda got invited too. We'll go together."

"If Hap lets her."

_Ha_, she thought to herself. As of this very moment, she knew her best friend was working the same magic on her husband that she taught her to work on Tig. "If he _does_?"

Hands on hips, he looked up to the ceiling. "I dunno."

She looked at the invitation. "It's at the Montclair Bistro."

"I don't care if it's in a monastery."

"Two guys getting married in a monastery?" she snorted. "Don't….think….so. Tig, you know how good of a friend Rafe is. He kept me company on a lot of your overnights."

He huffed a bit loudly. "Yeah, really Daze. That's gotta stop too."

That caused her calm exterior to crack. "Excuse me?"

"I let it roll for a while, but it don't look good – another guy in my house with you when I'm away."

_His_house? No longer needing separate residences, Tig had since given up the rental to Maniac who wanted something bigger than the second floor apartment he was currently living in and moved into Daisy's house. It was bigger, cleaner and more furnished. This was _her_house. Well, _their_ house. But he was the man of it and, right now, she wasn't going to argue possession. "Yeah, a guy who's marrying another guy," she told him. "Really, Tig? All you gotta do is castrate Rafe and he's pretty much a woman."

He walked to the couch to stand over her. "Ain't the point, doll."

She stood up, needing another cup of coffee herself, but letting him know she isn't too thrilled where this is going. "It _is_ the point, Tig. I don't know what you think will happen at this wedding, but I need you to think about this. It's important to me. I hope you can understand that."

Without another word, Daisy headed to the kitchen, swinging her hips for good measure, leaving him alone with the dog who was giving him a look as if to straighten this mess out. "One bitch in my life givin' me shit's enough."

**~A~**

Everyone and their fucking second cousin in Charming had their cars in for repair – getting everything tuned and tightened in time for Christmas travels. Tig and Hap were quiet for most of the morning unlike Toby who was his usual, overly-chipper self.

"Bro," he said to Tig who was taking yet another cigarette break. "Gimme a hand rotatin' these tires?"

A hard drag was followed by a harder exhale of smoke in the Toby's face. Fearless little shit. "First – I ain't your _bro_ until that bottom rocker's voted in. Second, you got two hands – at least for now – rotate 'em yourself."

With only a shrug, Toby scurried off whistling as if he had not a care in the world. Finishing his cigarette, Tig turned and met Hap who was sifting through the tool drawer. "Let me guess," Hap said, seeing Tig's sour disposition, " weddin' invitation shit?"

"Little fairy princess wants to marry his ass-buddy - fine by me. Don't like the idea of it bein' in Oakland – don't care how quiet things are."

Hap made a shitload of noise till he found the wrench he needed. "Gotta let 'er go, man."

"You lettin' Amanda go?"

"Not if you don't let Daisy go," Hap replied, attacking a lug nut. "And not without backup."

Tig doused his cigarette with disgust. "We really discussin' ol' ladies and weddin's in a garage? This how low we've sunk?"

"Come over and change a diaper full of yellow infant shit – then you've really sunk to my depths."

Shit, what's happened to the both of them?

"Who?" Tig asked. "Who goes with 'em?"

An overly annoying whistle pierced the look they shared as they both broke into a smile. Sticking his fingers in his mouth, Tig blew the kid's whistle out of the water. "Hey…..shithead?"

Toby popped in their view like a ninja. "Yo?"

Hap shrugged at Tig. "Least he knows his name. Got a job for ya – next Sunday. In Oakland."

The kid bobbed his head enthusiastically. "Cool! On my own?"

"Escortin' our ol' ladies to a weddin'."

"Really?" Toby perked up some more. "Sounds like a plan. Hope they got a good spread…."

"You ain't steppin' foot inside," Hap reminded him. "You stay outside the entire time– by the door, on alert, straight, sober, phone on and check in every half hour until they're ready to go."

"A'ight, a'ight," Toby surrendered.

"Give ya the deets after we clear it," Tig said. "So don't make any plans."

"And if you did, break 'em," Hap added.

"Yeah, okay," Toby replied. "Anything else?"

The two men looked at each other before Tig spoke up. "Oh yeah. It's a fag weddin'."

Toby was appalled. "_What?"_

"So make sure you're all dolled up."

"Never know who ya might meet," Hap said, holding back a laugh.

The poor kid rolled his eyes. "Oh, man….."

"Shut up," Tig scolded him. "You do what you're told to do and whatever our ol' ladies tell ya. They want you to blow the best man in an alley, you do it."

Toby looked about to vomit, before wisening up a bit. "But….then I won't be able to keep an eye on them. I'll be contradicting my orders to be alert….."

"Go back to work ya little shit," Hap growled at him.

"Jesus!" Toby said, hightailing it away from the two patched members before they tortured him some more.

Shaking his head, Tig looked at Hap. "He's too smart to be only nineteen. Think we need to send Rat with 'im."

"Nah," Hap said. "It'll be harmless. It's a gay weddin'. What the fuck can happen?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Moving right along - I'm thinking 2 more chapters may wrap it up as I'm finding myself dragging it out longer than expected. Thanks for the support. Glad you're enjoying this. Little lame I know. Just having some fun!**

~/~

**Chapter Two**

**Following Sunday**

Or course she needed a new outfit.

It rarely broke seventy in NorCal this time of year, but Daisy didn't factor in the weather. It's not as if the wedding was outside.

Despite the season, she went for citrusy pastels. A daringly, short pale lime skirt with a choker-halter top in a billowy material swirling with the same color mixed with lemon. Bone peep-toed pumps, her chocolate-cherry hair pulled back tight in a power pony-tail made her hazel eyes and heart-shaped face stand out. She kept her makeup soft with the exception of her eyes – lined in dark gray and lots of mascara with pale lips and cheeks. She looked anything but Christmas-y.

Hooking in dangly, pearl earrings, she checked the clock and grabbed her clutch. Amanda would be by any minute to pick her up. Even though Daisy offered to be the designated driver so Amanda could indulge in as much champagne as she wanted, the new mother declined, allowing her friend alcoholic freedom for the afternoon.

"_Maybe Tig'll talk you into some freak sex when you get home,"_ Amanda had teased her. Ha! As close as the two women were, Daisy still couldn't fully discuss her sex life – well, in vivid detail at least.

Amanda on the other hand had no qualms. It was pretty much '_whenever or wherever we can'_ now that there's a demanding five month old front and center in their lives as well as a nosy eighty pound boxer. And with her husband, she wasn't picky. The quicker, the hotter, she admitted. Bathroom sink, five minute showers, against the fridge – it didn't matter. Even at this point in their friendship, Daisy still blushed, even though what she and Tig did could rival any fast and furious session of Amanda and Hap's.

Hearing Amanda pull up, she got Sasha's leash and went over to where the ten year old Shepard was laying peacefully in her newfound place in the corner of the sofa. Since they'd be out for most of the afternoon and their men at the clubhouse hosting visiting officers who took a two day respite traveling through California, they didn't want to leave the dog alone. Even at her age, Sasha's ear's sprung up and her tail thumped when Daisy hooked the leash to her collar. It signaled only two things – a walk or a ride in the car. With newfound exuberance, the dog hopped off the couch, looking anxious for either as she walked her into the kitchen just as Amanda walked up to the door.

"It's open," she called out.

Unlike Daisy, Amanda channeled the Christmas season with a red, strapless number. Even though she dropped all her baby weight, her body was even more insanely curved than before and the dress did little to hide it. Her gorgeous, dark hair was pulled in a side ponytail - its end draping over her right shoulder, her old lady mark fully exposed on her left one while one of Lyla's original creations – faux, ruby drop earrings – gently grazed both of them. Draped over her shoulders, a sheer wrap with tiny roses embroidered all over it. Next to tall, model-slender Daisy, the two women who shared a strong friendship and similar lifestyle couldn't be more different in appearance.

"Wow," Daisy said, eyeing her friend.

Amanda did the same thing after looking Daisy up and down. "Right back at ya," she said, scanning her from the ankles. "Are those your legs?"

Daisy fought the urge to tug her skirt down. "Yeah, it's a little shorter than I'm used to. Good thing they weren't home while we got dressed. They wouldn't let us out of the house like this."

"And they won't be able to make us turn around and change after we drop the dogs off," Amanda reasoned right back. "We don't want to be late to the wedding, do we?"

The two old ladies were becoming pros at subtly working their men.

Tossing on a light, knee-length duster, Daisy followed Amanda out to the car. The back hatch was popped open where Tank was laying nice and comfortable until the boxer laid eyes on the shepard. First, he didn't move as Sasha gingerly hoisted herself up in the back, circled a bit, then gave Tank a long, hard look until he got up and scooted over. Only then did Sasha decide to plop herself down.

Seems all the females knew how to work the men.

Twenty minutes later they pulled into the clubhouse parking lot to find a sea of bikes and a few members they didn't recognize. Both Hap and Tig had departed early for the clubhouse to greet the brothers riding up from Henderson, Nevada en route to Eureka. They had come in late the night before and we're being fed and fueled before getting back on the road this afternoon. However, both men were strict in their orders before they left the house – that they were to rendezvous at the clubhouse, drop off the dogs and depart with Toby leading the way.

Pulling right up front, both ladies got out – feeling strange eyes which surrounded the picnic table upon them, but not a word was being said. That's because Bobby was right there in the thick – making it clear to the Henderson boys to not even think about it. Popping the hatch, Tank sprung out as he always did – anxious to make his way over to a new group of men and get as much attention as possible. But for some reason, he held back – waited at the back of Amanda's Edge, circling until Daisy helped Sasha down. Only once the old shepard was down, did Tank finally make his way over along with their mistresses.

"Ladies," Bobby greeted with smiling eyes and a pleasing grin under his unruly beard. "You look lovely enough to go to a weddin'." Both women thanked him, well aware of the strange men in Bobby's company who were fighting hard not to stare out of nothing but respect. Oh, and fear of their old men's wrath.

Tig was the first one outside, Sasha finding him immediately, but not before he honed in on Daisy first. Or more like…..Daisy's legs. "You kiddin' me," he quietly said, pushing through his out-of-town brothers without a thought for politeness or manners and went up to her. "Can that skirt be any fuckin' shorter, Daze?"

She gave him an obvious look. "Yes," she sheepishly replied in a low voice. "But I don't think you want to bail me out for indecent exposure."

He answered by grabbing her around the waist, his hand sliding down to fill with her tight little ass. "You bein' a smart ass, doll?"

She was still an ingénue at this ol' lady thing, but knew enough that this was a power-play for Tig with visiting members looking upon his obvious display of possession and keeping her attitude in check. She shook her head demurely, not saying another word to which he just gave her a hard kiss.

Hap finally emerged with Toby following him like a puppy. In a sea of black leather and blue jeans, all he spotted was the vision in red which was his wife. Dark eyes swept the picnic table to find the visiting ones trying to look elsewhere. He went and stood in front of her to which she just smiled. "We're ready."

He slid her wrap off her shoulders to get a better look at her dress. "Little tight, don'tcha think?"

She looked horrified. "Does it make me look fat?"

Oh, no, he was not going down that conversation road. "No," he quietly bit back. "Just shows off…everything."

"I got my pre-baby body back."

Eyes narrowed, hand clasped on her left shoulder so his fingers grazed the top of her ink, he leaned down. "Yeah. I can fuckin' see that." He gave her a kiss then straightened up. "Where's Will?"

"Dropped him at Gemma's before picking up Daisy. She's gonna bring him by here later with the food."

Tig joined them then turned to Toby. "Know where you're goin', shithead?"

"Yep," the kid confidently replied. "Mapquested it."

"You gonna read a piece of paper while ridin'?" Hap asked.

"Don't have to," Toby told him, tapping the side of his head with his finger. "Got it all up here."

"Least somethin's up there," Tig said, then nodded to Hap. Both men then motioned for the women to get back in the car and wait. Once they were safely inside, Tig turned back to the kid. "She comes back with one hair outta place, I'm cuttin' ya into pieces and feedin' them to my dog – one handful at a time."

Toby grinned, as if knowing it was pure bluster, but when Tig got that creepy look in his eye, the poor kid just gulped before glancing at Hap. The Sergeant shrugged. "I can top that," was all he said in regards to what'll happen if the mother of his child gets so much as a scratch on her.

"Ohhhh, kay then," Toby sang out, trying not to look intimidated as he walked off before being jerked back by Tig.

"You call when you get there," he said in his face. "You watch 'em go in, you wait outside and call every thirty minutes."

"Yeah, okay so…who do I call? You…..Hap…..?"

"Mix it up – I don't care," Hap shot back. "Just stay alert and prepare to roll if anything happens."

Toby shrugged. "It's a gay weddin'. What's the worst that can happen – a bitch-slap fest?"

Tig grabbed the back of his neck. "Didn't ask your opinion," he said, shoving him towards his bike. "Go."

Leaving behind a table-full of chuckling men, Toby mounted his bike – painted over a third time in a club-approved color called Celestial Charcoal, a deep gray baked with a subtle, glittering shine, as Hap was fully prepared not to let him live to see twenty if he so much as painted his bike Metallic Eggplant fusion.

Leading the way, Toby took off, Amanda's Ford Edge following close behind as Jax came out to see them depart. "Off they go," he said.

"Better them than us," Tig replied.

Arms folded, a hint of mirth in his blue eyes, Jax eyed his two men. "You two do realize what you just did, don't you?"

Hap looked stumped. "What?"

Rubbing his beard, Jax finally laughed. "You sent your inked ol' ladies as each other's 'plus-one' to a _gay_ wedding."

The two men looked at each other before they realized what Jax was implying, their own smiles taking over.

Bobby pulled his wallet out. "Ten bucks they're mistaken for lipstick lesbians."


	3. Chapter 3

**Strap in, here we go!**

**Thanks for the love you're giving this little piece of fluff. I'm glad you're enjoying it and giving you much needed humor. It's been very therapeutic for me as well.**

**Next chapter should wrap it up. . I don't normally reply to everyone's reviews (unless there's a specific question) but writing, reading, a job, business and other factions of RL keep me saturated, but I will try to be more interactive with my readers because you really have been great to me over the years. Thank you...all.**

**Now, enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

"This place…is _gorgeous_." On her third glass of champagne since the civil ceremony concluded little over an hour ago, Daisy couldn't stop gushing.

The glass-enclosed glass room of the Montclair Bistro in Oakland was elegantly done up for the Christmas season as well as for the wedding. Rather than the traditional red and green – which Rafe had deemed gauche and cliché – he and Carlos arranged with their planner to have the room decorated in blue and silver with several hundred strands of white lights twined through the multitude of silk trees scattered about the room. Blue tablecloths stitched with silver thread covered the ten round tables of six dressed with crystal wine, water and champagne glasses, sterling silver flatware and a glass centerpiece filled with sparkling white ornaments nesting in a sea of silver and blue glitter.

Finishing her last spoonful of blood-orange sorbet, Amanda smiled at her tipsy friend as she took in the surroundings. "Yeah….it is. It says…."

"…..two gay men got married here," Daisy finished the sentence as well as her champagne.

A dutiful friend, Amanda took the empty glass from her. "Slow down, my friend," she told her. "We still have three more courses, cake and a chocolate fountain to get through."

Daisy pouted, but quickly got over it. "I think if Evan and I ever made it, we'd have a reception in a place like this. Buuuuut," she drew out, "Tig came along and Evan got whacked, sooooo…."

Amanda's arm went around her friend's shoulders so that her hand covered Daisy's mouth. Across the table, two ladies dressed like overaged croweaters, but looking as if they could vie for a patch gave Amanda and Daisy a curious look. Politely, Amanda smiled as she held her chatty friend quiet "Too much champagne."

One of the big broads rested a beefy arm on the back of her chair and leaned back. "Uh-huh."

**~A~**

Shit, he was starving. Toby now wished he made a quick pit-stop at Subway to pick up a big-ass grinder on the way, but his orders were clear – escort the girls _directly_ to the wedding. If he so much as deterred from the plan and their ol' men found out, he'd wind up Alpo for sure.

All he had was half a Muscle Milk bar inside his cut pocket, but he held out until he was_ really_ famished. With the glass reception room, he was in full view of Amanda and Daisy as well as the festivities. And the food. Salad, followed by what looked like ice cream was already served and now it looked as if pasta was being brought out. His stomach grumbled, but soon churned when he saw guests clinking their glasses followed by the two grooms…..brides….whatever kiss.

"Oh, fuck me," the young prospect groaned and shuddered, even as he snapped a photo of it with his cell through the window, capturing Amanda and Daisy in the background to prove they were still in one piece to go along with some other ones he took. The alarm on his cell then went off, signaling his next thirty minute check-in. Since he already called Tig upon arriving and Hap after the ceremony, it was Tig's turn again to get the phone call – along with some photographic evidence.

Hey, he was just doing his job.

**~A~**

"Yeah?" Tig made sure to sound as annoyed as possible when he answered the phone.

"_Just checkin' in_," Toby said on the other line.

"And?"

"_They're fine. Um…wanna see?"_

"What're ya talkin' about?"

"_Proof that your ol' ladies are still whole. Got 'em ready to send."_

Rolling his eyes, Tig caught Hap's stare. "Everything a'ight?"

"Shithead's playing wedding fotog," Tig said, looking till he found Juice. "Got your laptop on?"

"Yeah, why?" Juice asked.

"Get ready to receive," Tig said, going back to the phone call. "Send 'em here," and gave Toby the secure email address.

"_On their way,"_ Toby drew out. _"So, um…..gotta go. Pasta's bein' served and microphone's bein' set up. Guess they're gonna make speeches."_

"You ain't there to enjoy yourself, douchebag," Tig told him.

"_I know,"_ Toby defended himself. _"I'm stayin' outside the window where I got full view of the girls. Watchin' every move they make. Daisy sure likes champagne."_

Now Tig was pissed. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"_Nothing_."

"How much she have?"

"_Three – in less than an hour. Amanda cut her off. Didn't look too happy about it."_

"Jesus Christ," Tig huffed.

"What?" Hap asked.

"My ol' lady's a fuckin' lush." He looked over at Juice. "They come through?"

In his techno-corner, Juice worked the mouse pad to check incoming messages. "Just popped up."

"Bring it over here," Tig said, then back to the phone call. "Just…..watch 'er."

"_Okie, dokie,"_ Toby sang.

"Shut up," Tig huffed then hung up on him.

Meanwhile, Juice set the laptop on one of the club's round tables as the guys – including the four out of town brothers gathered around it. "C'mon, let's see," Tig impatiently said.

Hap looked to be a lot less on-edge than his brother, having had an ol' lady a lot longer and, therefore, not as anxious. As long as his wife was safe, drove sober and came home in one piece he was good. The visiting members – well fed and hydrated before departing in another hour – stood around with the home charter as Juice clicked on Toby's email – then the first of ten photo attachments.

"Bro, you need to have that one framed," Bobby told Hap as the first photo was a profile view of Amanda with a beautiful smile.

Even taken through a window with a cell phone, it was a gorgeous shot and Hap had to agree. "Yeah," he quietly rasped, before noticing the visiting members appreciating it a little too much. "Next," he impatiently told Juice.

The next one had Daisy seated which what looked like to be during the ceremony. It was a right side shot, the inked replica of Tig's marine chain fully visible going up the inside of her lower, left leg. "That's my girl," Tig proudly announced, even as that short ass skirt Daisy had on pissed him off. "Okay, okay next one."

The rest were of the happy couple holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes during the ceremony. "Fast forward those," Chibs told Juice who was more than happy to oblige.

"What does this prospect of yours have some sort of camera phone scope?" a visiting member said.

"T-Boy's our very own McGuyver," Bobby spoke up.

"Little shit's only nineteen, but you put him in any sitch and he just improv's his way through," Jax added before they began to regale their guests with tales of Toby's past exploits – from getting himself arrested for shoplifting to warn the guys of a possible setup by The Bastards, to pretending to be a drug supplier to draw Dusty out to his demise to impersonating a pizza delivery guy and getting roughed up by some two-bit MC to facilitate Daisy's rescue. In less than two years he went from being seventeen, homeless and finding himself at gunpoint after falling out of a box truck full of Nords to putting a bike together with his own two hands and wearing a prospect patch.

Tig wanted to snort in disgust with the gushing over a lowly prospect, but the out of town members were impressed. And that was a positive reflection on the club as well as showing the strength of the mother charter by prospecting members who show potential.

"Aw, shit," Juice groaned with disgust when he got to the last photo and all the guys followed suit with collective heaving sounds as the newly-wed couple kissed at their table to what looked like guests clinking their glasses. But they were too focused on their manhood being threatened to notice a whimsical scene Toby caught in the corner of the photo. Everyone but Jax. "What's Daisy and Amanda doin'?"

The photo caught Amanda with her arm around Daisy – her hand over her mouth – with Daisy's arm back around here. It also caught the two women sitting across from them.

"Holy shit," Juice exclaimed, cocking his head towards Maniac. "That one there could take you on, bro."

"Those are two nasty looking dykes," a visiting member said.

Inching towards the monitor, Bobby took a closer look at the photo. "Is it me, or does the bigger bitch appear to be checkin' out your ol' ladies?"

That earned Bobby a twisted look from Hap and a shudder from Tig, but that didn't stop the V.P. from pulling his wallet out again. "I'm uppin' the wager to twenty."

**~A~**

"Food," Toby murmured to himself. "Someone please bring me food."

He was ready to chew the handlebars off his bike after polishing off the remainder of his power bar. Being in full view of the dining room watching plate after plate of food being served was making him drool.

"Hello?"

Behind him a petite, twenty-ish man dressed in head-to-toe light gray appeared. Toby took in the perfect knot in his tie, the pearly shine of his shoes, little slender fingers and strategically razored goatee which resembled a nicely, shaved pussy. He was as queer as the sky was blue. "Yeah?" Toby replied cautiously.

"Oh don't mind me," the little guy said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Just wondering why you're peeking in the window all afternoon."

Toby gave him a hard look. "None of your damn business – _sister_."

The little man jumped back, before letting out a 'hmph'. "Just asking. Just thought maybe…."

Swinging off his bike from where he was resting his ass the last hour, Toby advanced on the poor guy. "You thought maybe, _what_?"

"No, no, no, nothing," the poor thing backed away as if he were trapped in a tiger's cage.

"You thought I was….._gay_?" Toby asked.

The guy was cowering now. "Don't hit me. Please don't hit me. I have a photo shoot at seven am tomorrow. Please, not my face. We…..we just saw you hanging outside, staring in the window and, well, you looked….interested."

Great. His first contact all afternoon wasn't with some drunk bitch in a mini-dress and no panties as he fantasized, but a gay model. He should pummel the little queer for thinking he was….interested. But pounding on someone weaker than him wasn't the right thing to do. For two years the Redwood patches put him through the ringer, though it was meant to toughen him up for the moment when he accepted his prospect patch, but still. "I ain't gonna hit ya, sweetheart. Get up."

Slowly, the little guy straightened up from his crouched position. "I'm sorry," he said again. "No offense, okay?

No harm, no foul as far as Toby was concerned, plus no one was here to witness some gay dude trying to assess him. But the resourcefulness in him which got him through some squirrely situations was beginning to churn. Might as well take advantage of the situation. "Well I am offended, a'ight. And you're gonna make up for it."

The little guy looked frantic. "What….what?"

Toby jerked his head towards the restaurant. "Go bring me out some food. Now!"

**~A~**

Daisy had enough pasta in her to warrant another glass of champagne. Amanda took off to the bathroom and the guests from their table had gotten up to talk to other people – except for one. "Friend of the bride or…..groom?"

Wrinkling out the bubbles in her nose, Daisy looked at the very masculine looking woman across the table. "Rafe," was all she said.

The big woman snorted. "Yeah, we're here for the bride too. So, you're uh…_ladyfriend _in red. You here…._together_?"

"Yep," Daisy happily replied, getting her tipsiness back. "We're each other's date."

"Cool," the woman said. "So, you two are…..?"

Putting her glass down, Daisy stretched her long arms across the table to punctuate her reply. "She's my bestest friend in the entire world." And the chattiness began. "When we first met, we didn't like each other. She thought I was prissy and I thought she was trash because of that tattoo on her shoulder."

"Saw that," the big woman said. "Pretty sweet. She don't look the type to have something that hardcore, but…whatever. Got a skull inked on me, but can't show you here. Maybe, uh…..later."

"You see mine," Daisy semi-slurred as she propped her left leg up on the edge of the table. "Isn't it pretty?"

In the background, a microphone was tapped and tested and people were getting up to give the couple their best. Ignoring the speeches, the big lady lady scooted over to the chair next to where Daisy's leg was perched, but her eyes seemed to be where Daisy's position and short skirt flashed. "Yeah, nice," the lady said.

Daisy pointed to the medallion by her ankle. "Marines."

"_You?"_ the lady said incredulously. "You were in the marines?"

"No, not me….."

"Hey – what's going on?" Amanda returned in time to pull Daisy's leg off the table.

"No harm, sweets," the big lady said. "Just showing me her ink. Which, gotta say, yours is pretty sweet."

Amanda winced at the woman's voice – raspy and rough like her husband's, but not as deep. They were in different waters here, but the two ol' ladies kept an open mind for their friend's special day. "Thanks," Amanda politely replied, taking a seat next to Daisy.

"So, you ladies got plans after the reception?"

"Just home," Daisy replied, going for her champagne. "She's driving so I'm indulging." She then leaned into Amanda. "_You're right,"_ she whispered in her ear. "_I think we're gonna have fun later."_

Of course, Daisy was referring to her and Tig, but the big lady had other ideas watching the affectionate play between the lovely ladies. "If you don't wanna head home right away, I know of a place where we can go to party – have some fun…_together_."

Completely sober, Amanda finally clued in on where this was going. Her and Daisy were each other's dates. Their arms around each other. Daisy whispering in her ear. Their ink. Holy shit, did this big butch of a broad think they were…..?

"_To my brother Carlos….."_ Amanda was pulled away from her thoughts when Carlos' brother had stood up – the microphone in one hand, a large glass of red wine in another. He was obviously as imbibed as Daisy. _"I love you…..you know that. You're my fratello. We're familia. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing. Not even…..not even this shame you bring upon that familia today."_

A collective gasp followed by a bunch of yelling, shouting and cursing – mostly in Italian and mostly from Carlos' family – started to exchange. All it took was for one table to turn over, wine to be spilled on an expensive jacket and a punch to be thrown before all hell broke loose.

"Oh…..shit," Amanda exclaimed as she got up and backed away – taking Daisy's hand in the process. "C'mon."

"Here with me, sweetheart," the big woman said, taking Daisy's other arm – forcing her to be pulled like a rag doll.

"Ow! Hey, stop," Daisy said.

"Let go," the big woman told Amanda. "You're hurting her."

"No, _you_ are," Amanda shot back. "Let go of her. We gotta get out of here."

In the back glass was breaking, fists were flying and chairs were being tossed. A beautiful, serene Christmas wedding turned into mayhem. The big woman snorted. "I knew it was too good to be true. Just a couple of pussy-ass lez's."

Fortified with champagne, Daisy yanked her arm away from the broad and stared her down. "_What _did you call us?"

The big woman got in her face back. "Why? Gonna do something about it you skinny, little bitch."

Another fist flew, but this time it was Daisy's connecting with the woman's jaw. And the big bitch barely stumbled back, looking ready to rumble. "You weak little pussy," the woman said, advancing on Daisy, before Amanda intervened with a chair.

**~A~**

"You're a'ight, my little friend," Toby said, shoving forkfuls of ziti and meatballs in his mouth.

To the side, his little food bitch stood wringing his hands. "Anything else I can get you?"

Toby ignored the possible double meaning of that. All he cared about was how fucking good the pasta was and needing some bread to sop up the sauce. "Yeah, go see if they got any bread…shit!"

One look at the chaos which had just erupted through the window sent the plate of pasta crashing to the pavement. and Toby flying towards the door, leaving the little guy in the dust, calling after him. "Do you want rye or pumpernickel?"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the crazy fun. Really needed this diversion. I love these characters and feel they're my strength writing-wise because I know them so well and we've been through a lot together. Got some major writing decisions to make so we'll see if I decide to delve into my saga characters more down the line. Thank you all so much for supporting this.**

**Chapter 4**

The visiting members had since departed with Jax, Hap and Tig giving them an escort to the highway. The foil covered trays of food began to cool and ol' ladies had shown up with their children. Eve and Lyla orchestrated the cleanup with several sweetbutts, Erin helped out with Thomas, the older children immersed themselves in hand-held video game devices while Gemma was content in her retired role to just rock five month old Will to sleep. It was a quiet cap-off to a good day – until two wedding guests returned earlier than expected.

No sooner than the guys left, they had pulled into the lot with Toby leading the way and phone calls to their respective men had them making their way back in a hurry. Having just arrived back, everyone was now under one roof waiting to hear the details of the day. Bobby, Chibs, Juice, Ope & Maniac hung at the bar, letting their two brothers take center stage along with their women once they had returned.

In the center of the room, Tara sat at one of the wooden tables pulling gauze, alcohol, peroxide and quick stitches from her bag to tend to the mess which was Toby's face while Amanda and Daisy stood unscathed and unharmed watching. Gemma circled around with Will for Amanda to check her son, but allowed Gemma to keep him so she'd be free to do the explaining both she and Daisy no doubt had to do. After following Jax inside, Hap immediately spotted his wife looking as gorgeous and primped as she did when she departed almost three hours ago. The closer he got, the more his eyes worked over every piece of visible flesh – looking for so much as a hangnail before he decided whether to work over Toby some more. Amanda knew what he was thinking without him saying a word, having become quite the pro of reading a man who barely spoke any. "I'm fine," she confidently said.

His eyes swung from her to Toby's battered and bloody face then back. "What…..the fuck….happened?"

Amanda looked more sheepish than upset having escaped what turned out to be a wedding melee which was a cross between an episode of Housewives and Jerry Springer. Before she could answer, Tig joined the mix and went over to where Daisy was standing – holding a bag of frozen vegetables on her right knuckles. Hearing Hap's question as he walked over, Tig spared Toby a glance then took Daisy's right wrist. "You hit someone?" he asked, inspecting her hand which was just slightly pink. "Someone try to hit you?" He pulled Daisy over to stand behind Tara so he could visually beat up Toby some more. "Where the hell were you? Why weren't you…?"

"Tig…..stop," Daisy said, pulling her hand away to hold her head.

He gave her a chilling smile. "Wanna drink, doll?"

"No," she groaned.

"How shit-faced are ya?"

"I'm not. I had two…..maybe four glasses of champagne. I was at a wedding and wasn't driving. So I indulged a bit."

"Can one of you answer my question?" Hap was insistent. "What happened?"

Knowing her friend was nursing a champagne headache, Amanda took over the story-telling duties. "A hot-headed Italian and a misunderstanding – that's what happened."

"Little vague, darlin'," Gemma said, as she rubbed Will's back while he slept.

Eying her friend, Amanda got the visual okay to just spill the embarrassing details. "Carlos' brother got up to make a speech."

"Is Carlos supposed to be the 'husband' or the 'wife'?" Juice snickered from the bar.

Amanda gave him a 'ha-ha' look before continuing. "Anyway, the brother sort of expressed his true feelings over Carlos marrying a man – along the lines of him 'shaming the family'."

"Italians," Bobby murmured into his afternoon coffee from the bar.

"That comment caused Carlos to start screaming at his brother in Italian and, before you know it, fists were flying, tables were turned, glass was breaking. I didn't see Rafe, but I'm sure he was curled up somewhere in a fetal position and crying."

"He must be the _wife_," Chibs quietly said to a giggling Maniac.

Hap looked at Toby. "And your face wound up in the middle of it?"

Toby groaned as Tara placed a stitch over a cut on his cheekbone. "Not….really."

"What happened to Toby wasn't a result of the fight," Amanda said, "but rather the…..'misunderstanding' part". She punctuated that with glancing at Daisy whose face seemed three shades of pink.

It didn't take the V.P. long to put two and two together. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess someone thought you two ladies were more than just 'friends'?"

Daisy's mouth dropped. "How'd you know?"

"It's a guy/lesbian thing," Tig told her.

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God."

"I'm guessin' this is the best part of the story," Jax said with bemusement, earning a rolling eye from his wife.

"Think ya better continue," Hap told his wife.

Amanda took a deep breath. "Okay, so Daisy and I are at a table with these two, rather…..robust looking….."

"Dykes?" Gemma filled in, earning her an astonished look. "Sugar plum here getting his face put back together sent the guys photos."

That earned Toby a glare from the two women he was charged with for the day. "Just proof you ladies were whole."

"Anyway," Amanda continued, "I think one of them – the one who looked like she could take on entire platoon of green berets – took sort of an….interest in us. Well," Amanda scrunched her face and gave an 'I'm sorry' look to her friend, "in Daisy."

Hiding her face did nothing but amuse her ol' man as Tig smirked. "Go on," he told Amanda.

"Well, I came back from the bathroom to find Daisy showing this…woman her ink. I mean, the woman's face was practically up Daisy's skirt."

"Not…one…. word," Daisy said emphatically to Tig.

"Oh, I got _several _words, Daze," Tig told her, finally finding a smile.

Amanda continued. "I got her to take her leg off the table….."

"You had your leg up on the table?" His smile faded. "In that fuckin' short-ass shirt?"

"Thank you," Daisy snided to her friend.

"Sorry….anyway, as Daisy already said she had about….four glasses of champagne and was sitting close to me and whispering in my ear…."

"Hell, now_ I'm_ beginning to wonder," Gemma mused. "No wonder the bitch got the wrong idea."

"That's when the speech was made," Amanda continued, "but we weren't paying attention because this….woman wanted to know if we had any plans afterwards and a place we could go where we could _all _have fun, yadda, yadda, yadda."

"You _'yadda'd'_ over the best part," Juice said from the bar, channeling Seinfeld.

"Then the fight broke out," Daisy now took over, "and I was being tugged like a rag doll. Amanda took my arm to head to the door, but Big Bertha was yanking on my other arm wanting me to stay. When we told her we had to get out of there, she….she called Amanda and I a couple of…..'pussy lez's'."

"And that's when you hit her?" Tig asked.

"No. I hit her when she called me a skinny bitch."

As pissed as he was, Tig had no choice but to smile over his little stiff-ass defending herself.

"And that's when Amanda had to fight her off with a chair."

Now it was Hap's turn. "Repeat that?"

Amanda cut in. "After Daisy hit her in the jaw, Big Bertha barely budged. She just….came after Daisy. I picked up a chair, turned it on its side and held the dyke back. All that was missing was a whip and a lion's cage."

"Kinda wishing I was invited to this thing," Gemma cut in quickly.

"And," Amanda said, looking at Toby, "that's where he came in."

"Little fuckin' late kiddo" Hap told him. "Why didn't you come in and get 'em outta there as soon as the fight broke out?"

Toby had that 'I'm so screwed' look on his face. "I couldn't see."

"You _couldn't _see into a restaurant which was wall to wall windows?" Tig asked.

The kid sighed, knowing these two men were probably going to add to his bruises. "I….wasn't paying attention."

"What were you doing?"

"Eating."

The two men looked at each other, then, mindful of the kids in the background, Tig kept as contained as possible. "You left to go stuff your face?"

"No. I didn't leave. I stayed by the window the entire time, I swear. Just…."now it was Toby's turn to turn pink behind the black and blue, "someone saw me sitting outside, looking in and…brought me something to eat."

"Hope she was worth the distraction, idiot," Hap told him.

"No. Um…he wasn't."

Jax was the first to catch it. "_He_?"

"It's _not_ what you think! Anyway, that's when I was probably looking away from the window…."

"Because you were on your knees?" Maniac asked.

"No!"

"Sorry…._he _was on _his_ knees?" Ope asked next.

"No, no, no….ow!" The shouting caused the kid's face to throb. "He just brought me out a container of pasta. I took just one forkful when I saw the fight began. I dropped everything on the ground, ran inside just as I saw Amanda fending off some bull-dyke with a chair. So I jumped on the big bitch's back and told them to get to the car."

"And we did exactly that," Daisy said. "We pulled down to the entrance and waited. Only for Toby to come out about fifteen minutes later looking like a lawnmower ran over his face."

Tig looked at the kid amused. "The dyke? She did that to your face?"

"You saw the pictures I sent," Toby said, trying to justify what happened. "Bitch looked like she could go in the ring with any of you."

"We did see the pictures," Bobby confirmed. "T-Boy's gotta point."

"How'd you get out of it, sparky?" Gemma asked.

"Bottle of Galliano across the back of her head."

"That's a big ass bottle too," Jax said, leaning back to look up at Tig and Hap. "Well? Did the boy do good enough?"

"He did fine," Amanda answered.

She was only cut off by her husband's stare. "Take Will and put him down."

"You," Tig said to Daisy," go have Tara look at your hand.

With Toby officially mended, Tara took the nod from her husband and led Daisy in back as Amanda also took her cue, lifting Will out of Gemma's arms and followed close behind. Eve and Lyla were still in the kitchen and Erin had since taken the kids outside. Following a lead she was not used to, Gemma pursed her lips and disappeared as well.

Once the men were alone, Hap got in Toby's face. "Well, what'ya got to say for yourself?"

This is where the kid's charm took over. It was an ignorance he displayed which you didn't know whether he was truly clueless or trying to play you. Now he used it to try to save his ass. "I got them both back in one piece."

Tig kicked his boot. "What if ya didn't, huh? What if you kept fillin' your little face and didn't look up?"

"I didn't. I mean, as soon as I heard glass breaking I rushed inside. I mean…."he looked exasperated, "it was a _gay_ wedding. Who thought this would happen?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Hap was silent. Those were his exact words to Tig – who caught that knowing look from him - when they agreed to let the girls go. Calling this kid - who took a hell of a beating to get the ladies to safety – out on it now would make them hypocrites. But the kid let his guard down, even for a moment, even if no harm came to anyone but himself. Next time it might not be different. "Still need to answer for puttin' your stomach before your job."

Tig read the tone in Hap's voice and went along. "What'ya think, bro? Should we go try to find that little pasta boy-bitch or get a broom handle?"

Toby let out a gasp and almost slid off the chair. "What?"

"Shut up," Tig said, kicking him the foot again.

Jax chimed in. "What do you think your punishment should be, kiddo?"

The kid thought long and hard, knowing that the wrong answer would no doubt put him in the ER. "Anything but…..that. I got hit on by a fag and beat up by a dyke. Ain't that enough?"

"Nah," Hap said, leaning over him. "Was thinkin' more your prospect cut."

Toby hung his head, but kept quiet as if knowing it was the punishment which would cause the least damage – at least to his body. Standing up, he slowly began to shrug out of it. "A'ight," he said. "Guess I deserve it."

Receiving a look from Hap and Tig, Jax stood up and forced the cut back on him. "Put it back on, doofus."

"I don't want the broom handle."

"You ain't gonna get a broom handle," Jax said, then thought. "Well, maybe not this time. You screw up again and who knows what we may decide to shove up there."

"A Galliano bottle, maybe," Tig said matter-of-factly.

"So…I'm not gonna be punished?"

"Wait," Tig said, walking to the door and looking into the parking. "Port-o-john company comes on Tuesdays to empty 'em. Think we'll call and cancel." He came over and dragged Toby by the collar. "Get in the garage and find some gloves, trash bags and something to scoop with. Then get in the shitter and empty it out."

For some reason, Toby knew he was being let off easy, even though he was skeeved. "Yeah, okay, but um…..think I can get a Percocet first?"

"I'm gonna count to…nevermind," and Tig chased him out until Toby was halfway to the garage. "Button pushin' little twat."

"Yeah, but we still love 'im," Bobby said. "That ignorance – fake or not's gonna come in handy one day when we gotta pull one over on someone again."

A satisfying end to a crazy day, Hap left the room to search for his wife. In one of the dorms, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing Will's stomach as the baby finally slept. "Did you leave him intact?" she asked.

"Let's just say he'll live." He sat next to her, his fingers rubbing his sleeping son's foot. "I'd ask if you had a good time, but….."

Grabbing her purse, Amanda went for her phone. "I have to text Rafe and let him know…."

"Later," he took the phone from her. "I'm sure he's recoverin' from a swoon or somethin'. Come on out and have somethin' to eat."

"Mmmm, not hungry."

"You left before dinner was served."

She continued to touch the sleeping baby. "I missed him. He's getting big. Gonna be teething soon – which should be a blast. Then crawling, first words, first steps, first birthday. He'll go from a baby to a little boy before we can blink."

Laying across the bed, Hap grabbed her fingers. "Know what that means, A?"

"Another one?"

He nodded. "Got two left."

"I know. Let's wait until he's at least one." She stood up and looked down at herself. "Know how hard I worked to get my ass into this dress?"

He sat up on the bedding, pulling her between his knees. "Know how hard I _ain't _gonna work to get ya out of it?"

**~A~**

Although she was starting to feel the soreness in her right hand, Daisy was texting Rafe. Her poor friend was an absolute mess of emotion, extremely embarrassed and probably going to be dragged through court by the restaurant for the damages Carlos' family caused. After going back and forth, she signed off when Tig walked into the dorm she was in. "Where's Tara?"

"Left," she said, holding up her phone. "Just getting the four-one-one from Rafe. What a mess."

"Nevermind him," he said, taking her right wrist and studying her knuckles. "He ain't my concern. How is it?"

"Just a little sore. Nothing's broken or anything. Tara said it should fade in a few days."

He dropped her hand and shook his head. "Daze."

"What? I know, I know, I shouldn't have hit her."

"How'd it feel?"

Why wasn't she surprised by that question? "Honestly. At first, it felt…..real good. But when I realized what I did and the fact Bertha didn't budge, I knew I was screwed. I….I didn't think. If Amanda didn't step in with that chair…"

"Cuz ya didn't have your wits, doll," Tig said. "You wanna get pissed here in the clubhouse – fine. But when you're out, without me, you need a clear head in case shit goes down. Need to be able to…."he couldn't believe he was going to say this, "_act_ instead of _reactin',_ know what I mean?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. I mean, I do now. Didn't mean to hit that woman." She let out a sigh. "It was a harmless gay wedding. Now it's probably gonna wind up on YouTube somewhere."

"Don't be sorry, Daze. You stuck up for yourself. Proud of ya."

She smiled, suddenly feeling a bit proud of herself as well, her buzz finally beginning to come down. "Yeah? Really?"

"_And _pissed."

She walked across the room and folded her arms. "Because?"

"Because," he sneaked closer to her, "that dyke got to see what's up that damn skirt of yours and I didn't."

Scooting away from him, she went to the door, leaned against it and used her bottom to close it tight before locking it. With her other hand, she slowly slid her skirt up until she flashed him a pair of white satin and lace panties. "Wanna see now?"

Damn, he needed to buy her a case of champagne!


End file.
